


sunlight

by moonrunes



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Falling asleep in each other's arms, M/M, Seasonal Affective Disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:46:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22604182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonrunes/pseuds/moonrunes
Relationships: Roberto da Costa/Sam Guthrie
Comments: 1
Kudos: 34





	sunlight

“Earth to Roberto.”

“Hmm?” Roberto started, blinking hard and fighting a yawn as he sat up. “What?”

Dani raised an eyebrow at him. “I asked what you thought about movie night.”

“Oh. I, uh. No particular opinion.” Roberto rested his elbows on the table and cushioned his chin on his hands, ignoring the worried looks his teammates were exchanging around him. “I’m good with anything.”

Truth be told, he thought, it was far more likely than not that he’d pass out on someone’s (probably Sam’s, given his perfect height) shoulder within the first five minutes, given his recently acquired and constant exhaustion. If he picked a movie _he_ liked, he’d just miss it -- so, who cared?

Really. He couldn’t fathom what it was. It had been barely a week since New York had been covered in a thick blanket of snow, but this weird tiredness thing had been going on since just before that -- and this had never happened in Westchester. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if this was simply time making itself known at the ripe old age of 22, or if it was just a longstanding symptom of some serious illness, but the tiredness pulling at his eyes and at every corner of his brain made it hard to care.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Xuyen felt his forehead with the back of her hand, ever the caring older sister, and Roberto rolled his eyes. 

“Fine, Xu. Just tired -- not enough coffee, I guess. Heh.” He grinned unconvincingly, swallowing another yawn, and Illyana snorted.

“Maybe you should go get some rest,” Dani suggested, and Roberto scoffed.

“Why? I’m good -- and besides, _someone_ wanted boots on the ground somewhere sometime today, right?”

“Not if you suddenly have narcolepsy.”

“Seriously, I’m fine. I-I probably just didn’t sleep too well last night -- so I’ll just chug some of that five-hour energy stuff on the way there.”

“You sure?” This from Sam, which was unusual -- not that he’d expressed concern, but that this was the first he’d spoken at all (or if he’d spoken before, Roberto hadn’t noticed). 

“Yes, yes, I’m _fine_. What were we talking about?” It came out snappier than Roberto intended and he winced internally, but Sam reached out and squeezed his hand, an unspoken forgiveness. 

“Uh, we were talking about movie night and also about the weird little nest of Purifiers. Simultaneously, somehow.” Doug scratched his head, Warlock mimicking him. “What time do you want us to leave, Sam, Dani?”

The conversation faded to the sound of Roberto’s thoughts, his constant tide of _I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine_ warring with the desire to put his head on the table and fall asleep (noticed by Xuyen, he realized, who was giving him a look out of the corner of his eye), but as he debated the validity of each option, he found suddenly that he didn’t care, that there was an apparent void where everything else used to be.

~~~

“Are you _sure_ you’re feeling all right?”

Roberto groaned into his pillow. “I told you, I’m feeling _fine_. Just tired.”

“Uh huh.” Roberto could imagine the face Sam was making -- the skepticism and the worry in his eyes, the way he peered over his reading glasses (forever perched halfway down the bridge of his nose like a librarian), the open book in his hands probably at least five hundred pages thick. “You didn’t have any opinions on the movie when you’re usually the loudest in the room, you fell asleep before we even hit the first fight scene in the movie, you’re tired and apathetic all the time, you hardly eat anymore-”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Roberto.”

He rolled over and sat up, looking towards Sam as Sam marked his place carefully and set his book on the bedside table, folding his glasses and resting them on top. “I’m worried about you, ‘s all. I think maybe you should see a doctor-”

“For what? I’m just _tired,_ Sam -- so either I need more coffee or I need more sleep. Or both. Either way, it’s not necessary to see a doctor about it. I’ll be okay.”

“Except you’re not okay right now. Hey, look at me.” He stood up and came around the bed, sitting down next to Roberto. “It’s not about what will be, sometimes, it’s about what _is._ I don’t think you’re okay, and I’m worried.”

Roberto knew that he should feel comforted that Sam was watching out for him, or annoyed that he himself apparently wasn’t as good at acting as he’d thought, but again there was nothing, an empty space where those emotions might normally reside -- and it scared him, something deeper in him. 

He sighed. 

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ll visit Cecilia tomorrow.”

The smile Sam gave him was radiant, and Roberto made an effort to smile back -- but still, the void remained.

~~~

Dr. Cecilia Reyes tutted. “Why is it that, whenever anything involving medical business comes up, you come talk to me?”

“‘Cause you’re a doctor?”

“And it’s not always medical business. Sometimes it’s a social call.”

“Yes, well, there _are_ other doctors, believe it or not.” She scribbled down a few notes and looked back on the other forms she had stacked on the lab table. “Anyways, what I’m trying to say is that this isn’t exactly my wheelhouse.”

“Why not?” Sam had opted to remain standing during the appointment, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and crossing his arms over his chest. Roberto knew Cecilia had noticed his nervousness -- it was hard to pull anything past her -- but to her credit, she took it in stride, flipping through her notes and clearing her throat before responding.

“Because there’s nothing physically wrong with Roberto.” 

Roberto frowned. “But-”

“I’m not finished, Sunny. Nothing wrong physically, but if I had to guess, I’d say you have a mood disorder. Depression, or given your mutation, possibly seasonal affectiveness-”

“Depression? I’m not depressed.”

“I’m not saying you are. I’m saying I can’t determine that.” Dr. Reyes scribbled what looked like a name and address on an index card and handed it to Roberto. “She’s safe, I promise. Lots of heroes get referred to her -- Dr. Richards told me about her last time I saw him at the opera. See what she has to say, okay?”

When Roberto didn’t respond, staring at the card with growing realization, Sam spoke up. “Sure thing, Doc. See you at the next book club meeting?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks, Cecilia.”

“Not a problem. Stay safe, boys.”

“Will do.”

~~~

“How’d it go?”

Roberto grunted into his pillow and he heard Sam chuckle a bit, footsteps moving across the floor before the bed creaked, Sam sitting down with a grunt and a sigh. “That bad, huh?”

He turned his head to the side so he could talk clearly. “High probability.”

“Hmm?”

“She -- the doctor Cecilia recommended -- says there’s a ‘high probability’ that I have seasonal affectiveness disorder.”

“Ah.” Sam paused. “Did she say anything about treatments?”

“Therapy, self care, exercise. As if I didn’t get enough exercise fighting for my life.” Roberto shifted until his head was in Sam’s lap, staring blankly at the ceiling as Sam gently twirled his fingers through his curls. “I just -- I don’t know, Sam. I’m just so tired.”

“I know. I’m sorry you’re tired -- ‘n I’m sorry I got pulled away, or else I would’ve come with you.”

“It’s okay.”

“You should rest,” advised Sam, even as Roberto caught his hand and pressed his lips to Sam’s palm. “Go to sleep.” 

“Mmm. Got stuff to do, though, you know?”

“Those things can be done later. Sleep now, things later.”

~~~

He fell asleep fairly quickly, and Sam found himself both relieved and worried -- relieved because he needed the sleep, obviously, but the fact that he needed so much sleep was what worried him, especially with this new information. 

He sighed and Roberto echoed him, sighing softly in his sleep.

It was a bit of a stretch, especially trying not to disturb Roberto, but after a little bit, Sam managed to snag his phone, settling comfortably back onto the bed, shifting Roberto bit by bit until his head was on Sam’s chest. 

_Okay. Therapy, self care, exercise._

~~~

“I’m just _saying,_ Cecilia.”

Dr. Reyes huffed, scribbling down another few lines. “You heard me -- presumably -- when I said this wasn’t my wheelhouse. Plus, what you read on the internet-”

“Was backed up by multiple sources. I just want your professional opinion, that’s all. If it’s too much to ask-”

“No, no, I just -- it’s hard to make a professional _anything_ with such limited information. Usually, there are other cases, but because of how mutations are, and especially with a rarer one…” Cecilia took off her glasses, cleaning them on her shirt. “There are no certainties. However, if I _absolutely_ had to guess, I’d say sure. Plus-”

Sam heard crashing from outside, as if someone had fallen down the stairs, and Cecilia rolled her eyes. “Hang on.”

The gaggle of teenagers that stumbled through the door were only half-familiar to Sam, all of them dressed sloppily in pajamas and with hair that stuck up in every direction. They greeted Cecilia with a mix of grunts and yawns, each reaching for a bright orange pill bottle with their name on it, all lined up on the shelf. 

“Julian -- do you have an appointment scheduled with your psychiatrist?” Cecilia asked, still making notes, and one of the boys turned around. 

“I think so.”

“Good. Remember that the refills are your responsibility, okay?”

“Sure. Thanks, Dr. Reyes.”

A chorus of thank yous and a series of gulps as each kid swallowed their designated pills, and then they were out the door again, running hands through their hair and bemoaning their schedules for the day. Cecilia chuckled.

“These kids. Anyways, I know Jean-Paul’s got something similar and he has a sort-of similar mutation with regards to light, so the box might help. And it can’t hurt to try, anyways.”

“That’s what I was thinking. Thanks, Cecilia.” Sam got up from where he was leaning against the desk and Cecilia followed suit, giving him a quick hug before squeezing past him to check a shelf behind him. “See you at book club?”

“As always, Kentucky. Good luck to you and ‘Berto.”

~~~

There was a box in Sam’s room.

Roberto frowned at it. 

It was fairly large, all things considered -- a computer, maybe? What came in boxes?

He heard someone coming up the stairs and half-turned just in time for Sam to come through the door. “There you are. You alright?”

Roberto ignored the question. “What’s in the box?”

“Hmm? Oh, ‘s nothing. Are you feeling any better than yesterday?”

“Eh.” The brief curiosity the box had stirred started to fade, the void sucking it in, and before he could grab at it frantically it was gone -- and the uncaring regularity was back in its place. “I’m okay. You?”

“Hmm.” Sam shrugged noncommittally, studying Roberto intently before offering his hand. “I made coffee, if you want it.”

“ _God_ yes.”

~~~

The tiredness persisted well into the day, in the way that Roberto had come to accept as normal, though he didn’t particularly like it. It wasn’t even a sleepiness kind of tired -- more like one that made him want to lie on the couch and stare at the wall for five hours. 

He stumbled to Sam’s room after the sun had gone down, crawling across the bed so he could rest comfortably on Sam’s chest, between his boyfriend and his book. He felt rather than heard Sam hum, concern and curiosity. 

“‘Berto. Can I try something?”

“‘S long as I don’t have to get up.”

“Probably not.” 

Roberto felt his arms move, though he didn’t quite feel like lifting his head to look around -- the sound of the book on the nightstand, the sound of a _something else_ by it, a plug going into the wall, and then a click.

He immediately relaxed, felt more alert, though he had no idea why. 

“What?”

“‘S a lamp. Specifically for seasonal affectiveness disorder -- supposed to simulate sunlight. I got it at the doctor’s recommendation. Said it might be good for you. Is it working?”

“I-I think so?”

Roberto laughed drowsily. The heat of the lamp on his back and the feeling of Sam holding him tight seeped into his bones, his shoulders loosening and relaxing for the first time in months.

“‘S not the sun, but it’ll do. Thank you, Sam.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”


End file.
